POV: Liam
The roof of the safe house was flat and cold and accessible through a hatch in the upstairs hallway ceiling that Isla had shown us without comment, in the way she showed us practical things, as information offered without instruction about what to do with it.
Maya had found it on her own at four-thirty in the morning while the rest of the safe house ran on the particular exhausted energy of people who had been through something significant and were now managing the administrative aftermath of it. Isla coordinating with Maren on Cole’s containment. Jake on the phone with someone I did not ask about. Dara and Jessica sitting in the kitchen in a silence that seemed, improbably, to be trending toward something functional.
I had watched Maya slip through the hallway and followed
